


Like a Fire That We Never Lit

by mytimehaspassed



Category: The Borgias, Trinity (TV 2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M, Spoilers, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-20
Updated: 2011-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-22 06:07:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mytimehaspassed/pseuds/mytimehaspassed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cesare had met Lucrezia in the chapel during her first term on campus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Fire That We Never Lit

**LIKE A FIRE THAT WE NEVER LIT**  
THE BORGIAS  
Juan/Cesare/Lucrezia; Juan/Alfonso  
 **WARNINGS** : Trinity!AU; spoilers for Trinity; suicide.

  
Cesare had met Lucrezia in the chapel during her first term on campus. He had told Juan that night about her, the way she talked about the Bible like a lover, the same way he talked about Juan, about the end, and repeated the only bit he knew by heart and only because it resonated deep within him and only because Juan couldn't stand the way Cesare looked sometimes, his eyes blank and his hands knotted into fists. This was before Cesare's funny turn by the billiard table, before Lucrezia had caught him kneeling before her door, before Juan had kissed Cesare goodnight and then slept while Cesare jumped off the clock tower.

Lucrezia hadn't known who they were then, she will tell Juan later, when it's just them. She will hold Juan's hand and squeeze it until he has no feeling left and only then will he look down and see the blood and know that it's Cesare's blood and only then will he realize that it will only be them now, it will only be Juan and Lucrezia and the ghost of Cesare that they will never be able to let go of.

Lucrezia will squeeze Juan's hand and she will say a prayer and Juan will say nothing because he could still taste the blood in his mouth and Lucrezia will tell him that she had never known them then, the day Cesare had found her crying in the chapel.

Lucrezia will say, she had never known it would be like this.

And Juan will grip her hand so hard that he breaks four of her fingers.

***

Cesare tells Lucrezia all of Juan’s secrets from the foot of their bed while he teaches her how to roll a cigarette by hand, and she tries it and coughs the first time and Cesare laughs and Juan walks in on them when they both start singing Daisy Bell in loud, smoky voices. Cesare looks startled and then crazed and Juan asks Lucrezia to leave and she does, setting the lit fag down on the edge of the table so the ashes fall to the floor. Juan doesn’t touch Cesare, but Cesare knows he wants to.

Cesare doesn’t apologize, but only because Juan raises his hand when Cesare opens his mouth, his fingers spread far apart. Cesare told Lucrezia this, too, how he’s afraid that when Juan leaves him, nobody will be there to take charge of his life, and Lucrezia had kissed him then, soft, chaste, on the corner of his mouth and she had tasted like fags and promises that she would never be able to keep and Cesare had wanted more and he didn’t know why.

Juan takes a shower and cries in between the clipped beats on the floor of the tub and doesn’t answer when Cesare taps two fingers on the bathroom door. Sometimes they don’t speak for days. Sometimes Cesare folds himself in between Juan and the sheets on their bed and falls asleep and doesn’t wake up even when he knows he should and he never says anything or answers any of Juan’s questions and Juan runs his teeth along the inside of Cesare’s lip just to make him bleed and, even then, he only makes a small sound of pleasure and draws Juan closer, his nails cutting into Juan’s wrists.

Lucrezia doesn’t make them better, and they both know that.

***

Cesare’s hands start shaking and he stops going to class and he rows more than he ever used to, and Juan watches him sometimes but it’s mostly because he can’t stop himself, Cesare on the water at night when the water is pitch black and he has only the dotted lights of the pavement to help him guide the boat. Juan meets him by the dock and hands him his hoodie and Cesare slides next to him and they don’t touch but they want to, and sometimes Lucrezia will be there and she will smile and laugh and break the mood and Juan will let her take his place and she will talk until Cesare is back from wherever he went out on the boat, from wherever his thoughts were, his dark face and the white lines of his lips.

Juan isn’t what Cesare needs, and maybe Lucrezia sees them for what they are.

***

(When Cesare dies, Juan forgets what he tastes like.

Lucrezia starts smoking the same brand of fags to remember, and she shows Juan, her mouth on his and her tongue rolling lazy and her hands over his pushing her skirt up higher and higher, his palms smooth on her thighs, and it’s not the same, not even close. He bites her hard enough to bleed and she slaps him with her good hand and his cheek feels hot and tight for three beautiful minutes and he fucks her right there, on Cesare’s side of the bed, and when they’re done, she lights another fag and shares it with him.

When he turns his face to the pillow, he catches Cesare’s smell, and he starts crying and doesn’t even stop when Lucrezia gets up to leave.)

***

Cesare gets into fights and Juan lets him and most of the time they will stagger into their room bloody and broken and Lucrezia will be there and she will look mad but won’t act like it, dabbing gauze on their cuts and kissing their bruises and swollen eyes, and sometimes she will lean in close and they will devour her like animals, and she won’t make a sound when they undress her and Cesare will slide hot hands on her small body and she will arch back into Juan and Cesare will kiss her and won’t close his eyes. Cesare will lean over her to kiss Juan and Lucrezia will watch and they will smear blood and sweat all over the sheets and, in the morning, Juan will wake up first to make tea and his side of the bed won’t be warm when he comes back.

Lucrezia will be entangled with Cesare and Juan won’t have the heart to separate them, but he will open the curtains and Lucrezia’s cross will catch the light and it will be blinding for a moment, but Juan will swallow against the rise in his throat and leave them there, consumed by the sheets.

Cesare will be sweet for days afterwards, always kissing Juan when he least expects it, his fingers warm on the back of his neck. Juan doesn’t know how to tell him that he doesn’t need convincing, that he already knows, that he will never be the one that Cesare loves the most, so he says nothing at all.

***

Juan rings his mum and dad when Cesare almost gets kicked out of college and asks for the villa in France for the weekend and he invites Lucrezia and they all smoke and drink and talk and laugh and swim and have sex outside by the pool with their backs scraping against the concrete, Cesare’s hair wet and raining on Juan’s face when he blinks up at him as Lucrezia kisses her way down his stomach. Cesare doesn’t take off his sunglasses when he leans down to blow smoke between Juan’s lips and Juan lifts up into the wet cavern of Lucrezia’s mouth and Cesare meets him halfway and they’re kissing and it’s amazing and Cesare puts his hand on the back of Juan’s neck to steady him and Cesare starts humming and it’s perfect until Juan realizes he’s humming Daisy Bell. Lucrezia starts laughing and Juan forgets not to cry and Cesare brings Juan to his wet skin and Juan lets him for a minute before he pushes off and goes inside, and Lucrezia’s voice follows him but he doesn’t stop.

Juan doesn’t talk to Cesare until they’re back in their room at Trinity. Cesare says he’s sorry with everything but his tongue and Juan believes him even though he knows he shouldn’t. Even though he knows that it will never be like it was.

Even though he knows that this will be the last time Cesare will touch him and mean I Love You.

***

(When Lucrezia leaves for the summer, Juan asks her to come with him to France to bury Cesare’s blades in the sea, because he doesn’t think he will be able to do it by himself, because he doesn’t think he will be able to go back there and look at everything through red, watery eyes and have it mean nothing that this was the last place Cesare looked at him like he was somebody to be loved, and he tells her he has gin and some rolling paper and she smiles sadly and kisses the corner of his mouth goodbye.

No, she says, and turns to leave before he can beg her not to go.

He doesn’t cry when he lets the blades go. He doesn’t even breathe.)

***

Juan had met Alfonso as a first year, had gotten along with his pomp and fanfare and the way Alfonso had swung his cane around swiftly like a performance, and left light palms on Juan’s back, just below his ribcage, and got drunk and kissed him breathlessly until he pretended to fall asleep, but this was before Juan had met Cesare, and Cesare was everything where Alfonso was just fun in the boys toilets between Dandelion Club meetings. And, now, Juan touches Alfonso like he’s numb and Alfonso touches Juan like he’s drunk, even when he’s not, and they both fumble and writhe against each other and Juan stops himself from moaning Cesare’s name every time, but if Alfonso notices, he doesn’t care.

Alfonso doesn’t mention the bruises on Juan’s face and Juan doesn’t mention the swollen teeth marks on Alfonso’s neck and they both don’t say much, even when they’re finished and buttoning up their clothing, and Juan leans over to kiss Alfonso and Alfonso stands still and solid against him, and Juan turns away instead of pressing closer and Alfonso tugs on his gold vest and leaves.

Cesare doesn’t even look at the marks on Juan’s hips, the red outlines of Alfonso’s fingers and the way they dip and swell and grip painfully over Juan’s skin. Juan kisses Cesare goodnight and only tastes blood.

***

Cesare writes Bible verses on the wallpaper and Juan erases them just as swift, and Lucrezia pretends not to see them when she comes in from class and stands in the doorway with her shirt sliding down her shoulder, but Cesare points them out anyway, and Lucrezia smiles uneasily, but Cesare kisses her on the place where her shoulder meets her neck and she tells him to stop, but it’s light, and only because Juan watches them with dark eyes, so Cesare doesn’t stop and he hums against her skin and Juan moves to the bedroom and presses a cool hand to his forehead and closes his eyes when they join him.

Cesare keeps his hand on Juan’s chest when he kisses her, and Juan doesn’t move. And when he moans Alfonso’s name against Lucrezia’s lips, he doesn’t even stop to apologize.

***

(Juan doesn’t cry the day Cesare dies.

Lucrezia does, and she buries herself beneath Juan’s duvet on Cesare’s side and she weeps for hours and hours, and Juan watches her makeup run and smear the sheets, and he wants to say something comforting, but can’t figure out how to not sound bitter, and she tucks herself into his side and he forgets how warm Cesare used to be, and she sobs into his shirt and he touches her hair and she kisses him and it’s not the same.

He finds her cross on Cesare’s pillow on the day of the funeral, and the light catches it and he can’t remember the last time he ever felt okay, so he picks it up and hangs it out the window, his fingers gripping the sill tight, the cross dangling on its chain in the air, and he wonders if that’s what Cesare felt when he flew from the clock tower that night, the wind in his hair and his arms outstretched for God or someone else, and he draws in a tight breath and watches it fall.

He doesn’t cry. He doesn’t even know if he can.)


End file.
